Obsessive, compulsive, and down right strange
by barakitten
Summary: Jalex. Idk how this came to be, I got bored and the Internet stopped working at 1am last night. Sue me. Smut, I guess. No but secks for Alex this time.


I've figured out that your punishments are no longer getting to you. They aren't punishing you enough. You aren't learning your fucking lesson. You never learn your fucking lesson. I'd thought you'd learnt from having a vibrator shoved up your ass all day long that you were not to even let anyone else touch you, never mind fuck you. I know we don't have a proper agreement, we haven't signed papers nor have we agreed that we're dating or anything, but it's there, you're mine. Mine to play with, mine to hold, mine to cherish. Mine. Not anyone else's. Though, once again, you haven't learnt your fucking lessons. And out of everyone you could have chosen to let fuck you; it had to be fucking Kyle Burns, didn't it? I should have seen it coming.

When I'd entered the bus from the night out with Zachary and Rian I had decided to go on instead of spending the night with you, I had expected to catch you playing with yourself or touching yourself, sleeping or watching a film – I had expected Home Alone, but certainly not what I had seen when I'd pulled back your fucking curtain. You on your back, legs spread, fingers locked around his biceps, your head lolled back and your throat exposed. Him hovering over you, whimpering your name as his hips stuttered, teeth clamped onto the soft skin of yo- my neck.

I cleared my throat, and you had sprung to life. A hissed 'fuck' and you had given up. He'd pulled out, and after I'd thrown him off of the bus I presumed he'd dressed and gone to his own. I never thought we'd be in this position. I never thought I would be.

I had tears in my eyes, my shoulders were shaking and I was hyperventilating. I was in love with you, I thought you felt the same and clearly you hadn't. You made me feel like I was high, like I couldn't be anywhere better, that I couldn't ever be sad again. Now, I couldn't bear to look at you. I was angry, upset, and confused. Angry that you would even look at that peroxide blonde little cunt when you had me, upset because I thought you loved me as I loved you, and confused that I was having all the above thoughts and more.

You had dressed by the time you had emerged. You were crying, I was crying, we were the only two on the bunk. I turned to look at you, and I couldn't help but scoff at you. Trying to be helpless, innocent, trying, but failing. I had never thought this would've happened.

"Out of every other single God forsaken piece of shit human on this fucking tour with us, you choose him to let fuck you? Kyle mother fucking Burns!" I growled, and you sobbed a little, digging your nails into your wrist painfully sharp, a little habit out of anxiety, nerves and fear you had. You'd done it a lot, over the past few months.

"How long?" I asked, clearing my throat and blinking back the red hot tears in my eyes.

"Today was the first time, I swear." You whisper, sniffing a little. I noticed, the three crescent shaped marks on your wrists were bleeding now, and you were still digging them in. I walk over, and slap your wrist from your hand, snarling slightly.

"Don't be such a fucking faggot, Jack. You're in the wrong, you know? We were there, Jack. I thought we had something. I know we never agreed and we never signed or spoke about anything but I swear to God Jack, I thought that maybe there was some part inside of you that might have even loved me." I whisper, voice cracking and a few small tears running down my cheeks. You raise your hands, thumbs swiping the salty droplets away as you tut and sigh. I have never felt so fucking vulnerable.

"I do, Alex. I do." You whisper. I look at you, and sigh, "but, you've hurt me too, y'know?"

"How?" I ask.

"Every day just using me for sex to get off, using me as your perfect little play thing. I just have to smile and make sure no one else touches me because I'm yours! I've always fucking been yours! Today, you went off and I had seen the way you were looking at other people, other women and other men, and it got to me! I only did it because I thought you were going to!" You whimper, more tears streaming down those perfect cheeks.

My breath catches in my throat, and I shake my head. "I wanted to make you feel happy, Jack. I was giving you freedom to be alone, do as you please within the boundaries we have. I thought, by playing it cool I'd be doing you a favor."

"Well you fucking weren't! Alex how was I supposed to know you didn't want me to fuck someone else! I can't look at someone else without thinking about how later that night I'd be sprawled across your lap!" You whimper.

I sigh, crave to slap you into a sense, crave but God damn do I digress. We need to speak. The actions had been done and it was now time to talk.

It pains me to see you upset. I know you don't know this, but it pains me to see you like this.

"Jack… I, I love you." I whisper, cheeks and neck flaming red with embarrassment and shock.

You gulp, audibly and visibly. I take my eyes over your shaking, sobbing form, taking in every detail of how beautiful you are when you're vulnerable and upset.

"Alex…" You whimper, and I notice your arms pull out in front of you slightly. It's then, that I realize your plan. You want a hug. You did everything for attention. You wanted me to catch you, to get mad and tell you. Oh, you devious little shit. I walk over, take your hand and lead you to the back lounge.

We've been together as a couple for little over three hours, sat on the couch cuddling, sharing lazy kisses and the occassional shitty dick joke from you. We were watching your favourite, Home Alone. I didn't plan on letting you finish the ending. Well, you'd been bad, you needed punishing.

I look down at your slim form as you curl further into my side. I trace patterns on the tops of your shoulders with my fingertips, hoping that it'll make you drift off like usual. Not that I'd have let you go to sleep, anyway. You've not said the safety word; we're not stopping our little agreement.

I lick my lips slightly. Your eyes are drooping and heavy now, and I behold a smirk of that resembling the Cheshire cat. Perhaps worse, I presume I could possibly pass for Lucifer himself. You're used to this smile, and when you glance up and catch sight, you pout and groan a little. You wiggle yourself around, and crawl onto my lap, knowing exactly what is going to happen.

I hum, and reach between us to tug the front of your sweat pants down, before moving and tugging the back down. I run my fingers down your spine to the top of the your ass, tapping the cheeks lightly. I smile, and lick my lips once more.

"You know what you're being punished for?" I ask.

You nod.

"You know the safety word?" I ask again.

"Octopus," You murmur softly, and I smile.

"Good boy."

I raise my hand, the first blow going to your right ass cheek, my hand lifting to show a small pink mark already.

I look at you, and smile sweetly.

"Twenty four smacks whore." I breathe, and you nod.

Nineteen hits later and your ass was the most perfect shade of pink, and still I'm not satisfied.

I pout, and reign down one last blow to the right cheek, harder than the others.

I sigh, and smile. "I've had enough of your punishment."

You nod, and lift yourself up, pulling your joggers up and curling up next to me. I lock our fingers and we sit there for a few moments, before I notice your eyes flicker to my crotch, and I'm shocked to say I'm sporting a hard on, of sorts.

"Oh." You murmur, before you're on your knees between my parted legs. You pull down my skinny jeans and leave them around my ankles, doing the same with my boxers before kissing the inside of my thigh.

I hum, curling some of my fingers into those blonde brown locks of yours. You kiss the head gently, swirl your tongue before taking in the head, I groan at the warmth your mouth radiates and I smile lazily.

You work expertly, bobbing your head, massaging the underside with your tongue, occasionally stopping to pay the head a little more attention. I pull you off, however, moments before I cum, and curl my fingers around myself, jacking off for two moments before I release, all over that pretty fucking face of yours. I manage to get most into your mouth, but some dribbles down your chin and down by your throat. I wipe the dribble on your chin away with my thumb, as you swallow the rest, and lean down, sucking, licking and kissing the cum on your neck away.

I watch as you stand, and pull my clothing back over my legs, which you then perch yourself on and curl up. I listen as your breathing evens out against my chest, I'm watching you intently. You curl up, suck upon your thumb before drifting off to sleep as the credits on the film we'd all but forgotten about roll on.

I smile, and close my eyes. "I love you, Jack."

"Love you too, Lex."

And we do. Our love isn't normal, nor is it natural, but it's perfectly natural to us. The way I love you, is the way you love Home Alone. Obsessive, repulsive, and down right strange.

But I love you all the same.


End file.
